My dad has this saying:
If your outflow exceeds your inflow, then your upkeep will be your downfall. I've been living the downfall part since I graduated with my B.A. in English, 1993. I had three great years. They were the years I lived with my parents as I figured out my bipolar diagnosis. So I know it's possible. But not easy. And when gas is $3.95 and more a gallon...
So I've been trying a few things.
Mint.com is one. Except that they really stick it to you--right now, there it is, on the screen: I'm not in the black. I'm solidly in the red.
Another thing I'm trying: to eat in more.
So tonight, after I called my friend and she was already making her dinner, I thought, oh, I should go out to Gullifties or something and then I thought NO! I want to make this solvency thing work. (I do want to write a post about being a single woman eating alone at a restaurant. That's another post.)
So I ate my leftovers from Mad Mex (Wednesday) and watched
Love Actually, which is such a wonderful movie. Rough around the edges in the sense that the people are really real, which, you know, is sort of shocking.
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And I WAS on the radio this morning! (After making several illegal U-turns because part of 579 is shut down and there are no marked detours.) There were 9 of us librarians. It was a lot of fun. We had brunch at Panera afterwards and it broke into talking about how crazy different people's bosses are.
There's a Pittsburgh job--Kiki on the phone yesterday, "But I didn't think you were looking in Pittsburgh." Um, well, I wasn't. I'll spare the details just because, you know, it's the Internet, and you never know who's reading, but it's a kind of cool job. You should have seen Marian's face when I told her I was going to apply. Look up "grin" in the dictionary and you'd see Marian's smile.
Of course, if I were to stay in da Burgh, no one could visit me in NYC, I'd still be at my church with all its imperfections, and I'd still be living in the third floor walk up with Max on the first floor.
So...I don't know. It's all fantasy until I send the resumé, and even then, you know, the interview...
If I did stay, I'd ask my landlord for new floors, and I'd get a paint job. Maybe have this room pink. Not bubblegum pink, something soft-ish.
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My dad took my mom to a MLB game, the Senators against...um. The Senators won. (I think.) Anyways, it was an exciting game, in the way that Game 5 was exciting for me. So it was fun to talk to my dad about it, even though I don't get baseball and he doesn't get hockey, we could share the excitement we experienced.
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So, SATC-TM (Sex and the City, the Movie) of course has caused a hubbub. No doubt. And being that I have always grappled with being a red blooded Christian woman and my love for Carrie, Miranda, Samantha, and Charlotte, I thought I'd pass on a few links of some folks and what they're saying. And let me say how much I respect Christianity Today for
a) giving Camerin Courtney, a single woman, the job to
review the movieand
b) coming clean with the fact that a lot of people couldn't believe they reviewed it at all. "
You reviewed WHAT?"
Camerin did not love the movie. I did. For me, it was a perfect mix of escapism and the reality of what happens when relationships break and how you try to repair them.
But here's a quote I liked from from Camerin's review (and really, if you're not sure if you want to see it, read Camerin's review, she lets you know what you'll see, just so you're not shocked when you get to the theater.)
Most of the few Christian voices speaking to the growing single segment of the population offer ten easy steps to find our soulmate. As if it's that wondrously simple. Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda, however, show how challenging it really can be for intelligent, accomplished, and admittedly neurotic women to find lasting love. They, unlike many Christians, don't insult my intelligence. Instead they speak to the complexities of relationships in a postmodern age—addressing baby lust, the mommy wars, sexual temptation, dating outside your "class," commitment-phobia, the reluctant desire to be rescued by a man, and the simultaneous fear that you'll lose your own hard-won identity in the process. Yes, materialism and hedonism abound. But so does a messy wrestling with complex new realities of life that I wish I saw more of in Christian circles.
That one line:
They...don't insult my intelligence. Yes. Yes. YES. Because love on either side of the wedding is not easy. And American Christian culture doesn't do a good job of communicating that. Or, if they do, they speak only to those that are on the wedding band side. If there was a book called:
So, you're single? Finding your Christian soul mate in 36 excruciating steps that may not work for your personality or situation, I'd buy it. Because at least it would be honest.
Because, honestly, I have no idea if I want to get married. Kids? I'm sorry, having something inside me for 9 mos and getting bigger does not appeal to me in the least. Plus, I'd have to change my psych meds. It's not that I don't like kids (hello, I'm a children's librarian) or that I don't think there are any great men out there (but they're all too young or married...) Okay, this is one of those train wreck paragraphs.
And possibly one of those train wreck posts. Here's another reason I blog anonymously: there isn't pressure for every sentence to be poetic, or funny. And inevitably, the posts that I think are lame are the ones that get comments, and the ones that I think are brilliant get none. I allow myself, in the words of Natalie Goldberg, to just write trash. I can't find my copy of
Writing Down the Bones at the moment to find the quote. And in blogging, I allow myself to publish drivel. Because I just want to connect. Yes, I should be using my writing energy to write a novel, or work on my 15 year old novella, but I'm not ready yet. And just like trying to stay in and not eat out (as much) and doing things like trying to keep track of where my money goes are small steps, so is blogging.
Okay, I think I'll go make a cup of hot tea. Or gargle. Or something to be healthy.
